


We exist (even in pain)

by anightskyperson



Series: I'm sorry about the blood in your mouth (I wish it was mine) [5]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bleeding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fainting, Guns, Guns are Dumb, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Major Character Injury, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Gets Shot, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Has a Bad Day, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark-centric, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23770531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anightskyperson/pseuds/anightskyperson
Summary: peter gets shot while on patrol and tony tries to hold the pieces together for as long as he can.
Series: I'm sorry about the blood in your mouth (I wish it was mine) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707067
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	We exist (even in pain)

**Author's Note:**

> work title by lord byron  
> proceed with caution and read the tags, this work includes gun violence (if you want more specifics/have a question before reading, just leave me a comment)  
> stay safe xx

It all went still.

For a split second, everything froze- a sacred fragment of time in which the impossible hadn’t happened yet.

  
A deceitful moment soaked in quiet panic, dripping of it.

  
Unfortunately, the world resumed spinning.

-

  
Tony turned to look at Peter who was stumbling backwards, looking down at his abdomen in disbelief.

  
No. This did _not_ just happen.

  
He quickly shot a repulsor beam at the guy still holding the gun, knocking him out.

  
“Tony- “

  
“You’re alright.”

  
The kid touched the part of his stomach leaking an awful lot of red, hand coming away bloody. Simply staring at and unable to process any of it.

  
“Tony?”

  
With that, he looked up in desperation, searching for some sort of stability and finding none of it in Tony’s eyes.

  
Peter whimpered.

  
It was bad.

  
It was so bad.

  
“You’re okay.”

  
Tony made a few steps toward Peter and grabbed the boy’s arm before he collapsed, helping him down to the ground.

  
Peter was sobbing now, hyperventilating, waves of shock crashing in on him. He was still looking down to where the blood poured out of his body.

  
“I don’t wanna die, Tony, please-”

  
“You’re okay.” 

  
Agonizing terror crept its way through his chest and paralyzed him, rendering him unable to think or breathe.

  
“The team is gonna be here in a few minutes,” he added, dumbly.

  
Peter kept gasping for air, panicking. “Please- Tony- “

  
He felt helpless.

  
“Friday?”

  
Tony cursed his brain for being so utterly empty now, unable to console the kid, irrevocably useless in the most precarious of situations.

  
_“You have to keep him awake and apply direct pressure until assistance arrives. He is experiencing temporary wound cavity and the bullet has severely damaged his liver.”_

  
Tony pressed his hand down on the wound, wondering why the hell he hadn’t thought of that earlier, and Peter heaved for air, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of excruciating pain.

  
“I know, I know- I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry, kiddo. You’re gonna be fine.”

  
Peter choked on his next inhale and coughed up blood.

  
“Damn it. Easy, kid. Breathe.”

  
But Peter just kept wheezing, downright terrified and unable to calm down.

  
“Come on,” Tony said under his breath, “I kinda need you here with me. Deep breaths now, come on.”

  
In an attempt to comfort the kid, he took his free hand and carefully cradled Peter’s head, placing his forehead against his knee. He started stroking Peter’s hair while enduring the awful noises and trying to quell his own panic, not knowing what else to do.

  
Slowly, the coughing subsided and breaths turned more and more shallow; and with that, the kid had gone eerily quiet.

  
“Hey. You still with me?”

  
Tony looked at his hand still pressing down on the wound and repositioned it with a squelching noise. A dreadful amount of blood was still seeping out, soaking Peter’s suit and colouring it in its unrelenting shade.

  
Tony grew even more restless. When was help going to come? How long was it going to take?

  
He tried to ignore his racing heart and concentrate on the task at hand. Keep the kid awake.

  
“Peter?” He turned Peter’s head so that he could look him in the eyes again.

  
“Kid? You with me?”

  
“Hm.”

  
At least something.

  
“You need to stay awake; you hear? Look at me.”

  
Though lazily and half- lidded, Peter’s eyes finally focused on Tony’s.

  
“Hi,” he said, “don’t fall asleep, okay?”

  
“Okay,” Peter replied, smiling weakly. 

  
It seemed as though the pain was the only thing keeping him anchored to reality, but also making him dizzy. He was fading fast- Tony needed to keep him talking.

  
“Can you tell me a story?”

  
Peter wheezed.

  
“A story? ’bout what?”

  
“Anything. How about that movie you saw with Ned the other day?”

  
“Oh, yeah,” Peter slurred, “’twas a good one.” 

  
“What was it about?”, Tony asked, even though he already knew.

  
“It’s this really old movie- “ a wet cough- “with Will Smith? And that other guy?”

  
“M-hm.”

  
“And they- and th- “ He sighed, exasperated.

  
“T’ny.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“’m so tired.”

  
“I know, kid. You gotta stay awake, though. We kinda have a deal.”

  
“A deal?” 

  
“Yeah, you promised you wouldn’t die on me, remember?”

  
Peter just kept drawing in shallow breaths, staring up at the night sky. 

  
Tony’s eyes filled with tears, panic shooting up his throat again, the daunting reality of the situation finally settling in.

  
“Remember, kid?”

  
A long beat.

  
“Peter?”

  
“’m so sorry, T’ny.” 

And with that, Peter stopped breathing.

It all went still.

**Author's Note:**

> me, writing this: why isn't the damn team coming to help them, why does this keep happening
> 
> also i'm working really hard on a 8-part-series about mental health (with peter and tony as the main characters, as usual) right now!! i desperately want to get it right- that's why it will probably take at least a few days before i publish the first part of that new series. just letting you know that something is coming soon.
> 
> until then, take care of yourselves xx


End file.
